One Knight Stand
by Be3
Summary: When Hermione cannot bring herself to memory-charm her parents, she makes accommodations to ensure their safety (kind of AU of the 7th book). Nine drabbles, alternating POVs. Rated for themes.


1.

The clock was so plain, and yet magical.

He had never seen anything scarier.

Its hands bore little pictures; the short one – of Hermione, the longer – of Harry Potter. There were twelve points: 'Safe' _(oh God)_, 'Tired' _(but not safe?)_, 'Sleeping' (_my poor girl)_, 'Sick' _(with what?)_, 'In danger' _(what danger?)_, 'Got lucky' _(escaped?)_, 'Destroyed another one' _(another what?)_, 'Got unbelievably lucky' _(survived?)_, 'Executed Snape' _(who?)_, 'Thinking of you' _(us?)_, 'Contact the Order for news' _(how?)_, and 'Don't make me haunt you, Ronald Weasley'.

Hermione Granger did not forget the little things.

His watch (non-magical) showed two in the morning; and his eyes hurt from all the looking, but the hands didn't twitch from their position.

_They will be safe,_ he thought. _Just maybe._ _No need to... They will be safe._

2.

'Let me out!'

'You can't leave,' said Ron, going to stand before the door. 'Sorry. The Charm only covers the house and the yard.'

He really hated to aim his wand at Hermione's Mom.

_Maybe it would be better if she did Obliviate them._

'Let me out!' she screamed, fighting against her husband's hold. 'I cannot sit here and do nothing when she… when they…'

'Helen,' said Mr. Granger gently. 'It's okay, Helen. They're alive. See?'

They turned as one and yes, the Clock read 'Sleeping' for Harry and 'Tired' for Hermione. Ron felt lightheaded. _They made it. Pulled through. Again._

'She's my daughter,' sobbed Mrs. Granger into Mr. Granger's neck. 'She's my only daughter.'

Mr. Granger murmured something into her hair. He didn't meet Ron's eyes.

3.

She couldn't stop worrying.

There was little to do, in this 'haven'. She'd cleaned everything there was to clean, washed the walls twice. Cooking was a relief, but though the groceries (brought by a 'House-Elf') were raw as raw could be, she still had time on her hands.

_Maybe if there were a whole cow to butcher…_

Helen Granger wiped her face and went into the dining room, where the other two were drilling. Ron was shooting rays of light which stung when they hit, and Patrick was evading them. It wasn't a fair fight, but they needed some distraction, too.

Tidying up was a bonus they left for her.

'I want to volunteer,' she said when there was a lull.

'Yes?' her husband asked from under the table.

'They kill us, those Death Ears kill Muggles, and we can't protect ourselves! It's awful and horrible, and I'm not going to stand aside and do nothing!'

'Mrs. Granger – ' began Ron. Patrick just lied down on the floor.

'So you can be our consultant wizard,' she said brightly.

'The Fidelius Charm – '

'Think of the _kids_ out there.'

There was a long silence. (They watched TV. And listened to the _Potterwatch_.)

'I'm really not that good,' he said awkwardly. 'Hermione's lots better at this stuff.'

'You'll do,' said Patrick reflectively. 'I'm not that good myself.'

Whereupon they moved the table aside and helped him to his feet. And then they went to war.

4.

There was much about Hermione's world that Patrick Granger couldn't understand.

'And this will bring us home? From anywhere?'

'Not _any_where,' Ron said uneasily. 'Not if there are Anti-Portkey wards.'

He squared his shoulders. Obviously if there were Anti-Portkey wards they were doomed.

'But a House-Elf probably could go to such places… probably.'

'Right.'

'You realize that as soon as they suspect our interference, they will use a child as bait?' said Helen, collected as usual.

'Well…'

'Then we'll do everything to not be suspected.'

She looked at them wordlessly – she'd become so grim – and then picked up her pen to jot down more Things to take into account.

5.

Ron told her stories.

About Hogwarts. About Hermione, and Harry, and lots of other people. About the Wizarding World.

Mostly, the stories made her furious.

Patrick took it easier, he always was the calmer one, but she couldn't believe they'd been glad to send their precious girl into that terrible zoo. No, that was too mild. 'Bestiary' was more like it.

And she couldn't explain to Ron that this wasn't normal, because for him it was, and he defended his reality hotly and loyally. Until one day, she said to him 'This is why we have a war now. Because for you, it's just _the way things are_.'

After that, he didn't tell her any stories.

6.

All Grangers were mad.

At least now he could see where Hermione got her SPEW ideas from.

And he was even worse, because he'd let himself be fooled into this…

Harry and Hermione were hiding somewhere, running from Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and every single Death Eater in Britain, and he got stuck with babysitting two Muggles who thought it was all a game, and the more the merrier.

'Consultant wizard,' ha.

He hoped that Hermione didn't have a Ron Weasley Clock.

He hoped that she did.

At least his hair was growing out.

He hoped she was using it sparingly.

Because brewing Potions – real Potions, not class assignments – was hard work. He knew it now.

7.

The toddlers were loud.

They were twins. He remembered being a bit disappointed that they weren't going to have twins themselves, all those years ago. It was only for a moment, but he still had hated himself.

_But dreams come true_, thought Patrick Granger, brandishing a diaper and grinning maniacally at a boy whose face was all mouth. By his red gums and rivers of drool, he was teething. O happy days.

Helen smiled at them from the doorway, rocking the other one to sleep. These two were always the last to settle down.

There was Amy, three years old and smitten with Ron. Ron hadn't told much about where he found her, only that he'd buried her parents and that there were no living relatives.

And Georgie, four and a half, whom they were going to send to his stepfather's family after his wounds healed (it would take another three hours, even with magic). Luckily, Georgie hadn't seen anything – anything they might have to erase from his mind…

There was Grace, fifteen years old. Patrick hid his face. They didn't know her name, 'Grace' was written on her bracelet. They didn't know anything at all about her, besides the Unforgivable Curse that she had suffered. She didn't speak. Helen took her under her wing.

They had all the food they needed, and other necessities, too, courtesy of Hermione's arrangement, but no money and no way to earn it.

And it was the middle of December. Almost Christmas.

'Hey,' said Helen quietly. 'To the boys, we're giving names. It's a great gift.'

8.

By spring, Grace had started smiling.

The twins decided to have a break from their endless Tooth Cycle. Their stomachs still issued weird sounds and inhuman smells, but at least they'd cut down on screeches.

Amy remained glued to his side, though she did let him out of her sight to 'go saving'. Ron swore to never again take the chance of having the bathroom all to himself for granted.

The Order kept them updated, though there wasn't much of news. Harry and Hermione – or Harry and Ron, as everybody else thought – were incommunicado, people kept dying, and Snape was still Headmaster at Hogwarts.

Just… yeah. Heroes did heroic things, cowards did cowardly things, and Ron Weasley looked for favourite plushies and warmed blankets.

And if sometimes he cried, he did it at night.

9.

'Ron!' cried Hermione.

'Ron!' said Harry Potter.

Helen shut the door to the bedroom where the twins were slumbering like angels and Patrick was snoring under his newspaper. She motioned Grace to stand aside.

This first moment. This first minute had to be hers, but it wasn't.

'Ro-on!'

He raced past her into the sunlit yard, where his two friends were laughing – 'We won! We won!' –and he kissed her Hermione, and Harry Potter – a tall, thin almost-man with glasses that didn't suit him – thumped him on the back, and they were going to return to their life, their life they'd earned.

She bit her lips and tasted blood.

Ron said something and turned to the house, and they rushed in. Hermione flew to her arms.

'I'm marrying her, just so you know,' Ron said in passing.

'You do?' Hermione asked, twisting to look at him.

'Uh-huh.' He took out a plate and shoved it at Harry. 'And you've got two brothers and two sisters, by the way.'

'Brothers?' Hermione blinked. How pale she was… and there were lines on her face… 'Sisters? Mom?'

'You'll love them,' Helen said proudly. 'You will love them all.'


End file.
